


hold me close and don't let go

by faguettenoodles



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Spoilers, mentions of ashs past so please be safe, post ep 24 so watch the anime before reading, so like mentions of rape and prostitution, trigger warning bc of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faguettenoodles/pseuds/faguettenoodles
Summary: "will you come back to japan with me?""there's nothing left for me.""in japan...you can start fresh. with me."





	1. i never could control you

**Author's Note:**

> ASDFGHJ okay so bananananana fish fucking WRECKED me  
> so naturally  
> i had to write a fanfic that would also destroy me  
> i finished the anime YESTERDAY (12/30/18) and fucking cranked this bad boy out TODAY (1/1/19) so i hope u guys enjoy !!!

The sun was just rising over the ocean, casting an orange and red glow over the water. It reminded him of the sunsets in New York; how the sun would just barely graze the skyscrapers, as if it were some sort of challenge on who could touch the sky first. Despite the business of the city, Eiji couldn't help but fall in love with it the way Ash did. 

It must have been around mid-day back in America. How was Ash doing? Was he handling everything alright? Was Max watching over him or had he moved to Los Angeles to be with Jessica and their son? 

He sat in bed for a few minutes, catching his breath. He had woken up roughly, though he wasn't sure from what; a nightmare? The healing wound in his side? New York had spit him back to Japan as if he were a bad seed--battered, bruised and in pain. 

As the sun rose higher, Eiji started to get out of bed. He moved slowly as to not hurt himself too much, though there wasn't much he could for the pain he felt in his heart. Nothing could amount to that, honestly. There wasn't even a justifiable reason to be sad he just missed Ash. He missed America. Of course, if he stayed over there, he would feel the same way about Japan, so it was a win-lose situation either way. 

Where Eiji's bedroom sat, he was able to look out at the city he grew up in. He could see the water three miles away from his window, which was just above his bed; the door was on the other side of the room, along with a desk and his backpack. On one bedpost at the foot of his bed hung his camera and camera bag. His walls were white, but he had hung fairy lights around to give the place a nice, comfy feel. It was serene. A few posters of music artists and athletes hung on the wall by his desk, but those were the only notable decorations. 

He was minimalist. 

Ash was not. 

"Eiji! Get ready for school, dear!" His mother called from the base of the stairs. He had totally forgotten that he had to return to school when he came back, and honestly, he wasn't happy about it. He dragged himself out of his room and to the bathroom across the hall from his room for a much needed shower. By the time he got out, he was running late. Too bad he couldn't run to school like he used to. 

His mother, thankfully, didn't rush him to eat. She didn't pressure him to tell her what happened in New York, and the way she looked at him was enough pity he would ever need in his life time. She watched him like he was a wounded gazelle. 

When he finally left for school--with his backpack and camera bag slung over his shoulder--he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had landed in Haneda airport the day before, at nine p.m. Since then, he had had the heaviest feeling in his heart. He figured it was the fourteen hour flight just weighing down on his body, or the symptoms of his gunshot wound. 

School dragged on, but practice dragged on more. He sat by idly under a tree's branches in the yard, sifting through the photos on his camera. Memories flooded back to him, and before he knew it, there were tears pooling in his dark eyes. 

Someone sat beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he held back quiet sobs. Ibe pulled the younger boy close to his side, and rubbed his arm soothingly. "I know kid. I know." 

* * *

 

He made plans to contact Ash when he got home, telling himself it was to help his English skills. It was a shitty excuse to see Ash's face again. What they had was...more than anything he could ever ask for with someone, let alone a boy; he didn't know he was gay until he met Ash, as cliche as that sounds. 

He had asked Ibe to contact Max to tell Ash but...something was wrong. Something felt fucking wrong, and Eiji couldn't put his finger on it. He should have been alarmed when Ash didn't show up to the airport that day--he should have been alarmed when he wasn't returning any of Eiji's calls. He should have been alarmed when his heart sank for no fucking reason. 

What the hell was happening in New York? 

"Ibe-San," he said stoically when the older man picked up the  phone. Part of Eiji was screaming endless horrible scenarios at him, the other part completely shut down. 

"This isn't a good time, kid, I just got home and-" 

"Have you talked to Max?" Japanese felt foreign in Eiji's mouth now. After all that time he had spent trying so fucking hard to learn and speak near perfect English, his mother tongue sounded and felt blocky in his mouth. 

"No but if this is about As-" 

"Ibe-San, please. I'm begging you to call him right now. Something doesn't feel right." 

"Eiji, you haven't felt right since you hurt your foot." 

"Just fucking call him, please!" 

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, and Eiji feared that he had pushed his mentor over the edge. Thankfully though, he hadn't. 

"Alright, alright. I'll call him now. Calm down while I talk to him." 

He couldn't get out his  _thank you_ because by now, he had started crying again. How fitting for the situation. Japanese people were always the ones to feel sorry for others, right? Always apologizing first, right? Right?  _Right?_

Eiji didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. Was this what anxiety felt like? Was this just a slice of Ash felt when his PTSD got bad? Eiji hated it--he couldn't breathe, couldn't clear his mind. He felt like the world around him was closing in, like he was dying again. Why was he crying? 

Why was he fretting so much over Ash? 

After what seemed like ages, his phone finally buzzed again. He picked it up sloppily, nearly dropping it as he brought it up to his ear. "H-hello? Ibe-San?" 

"Eiji...I need you to calm down." 

"Is he alright? Tell me he's okay." Ibe's calm tone of voice started to ease Eiji's rattling nerves--though a part of him connected it to Ash, and the way he lied. Part of him related it to the way Shorter took his last breath--calm and afraid. 

"Eiji. Max got in touch with Sing-" 

"What? Why him? No, I said talk to Ash, not Sin-"

"Will you listen to me, dammit?!" 

Eiji went silent. He sat on the floor near the side of his bed and waited for whatever it is Ibe was about to say; his brain flooded him with bad scenarios, all the  _what-ifs_ that could have happened in the three days Eiji wasn't with Ash. His heart wasn't as forgiving as his brain. Somehow his body knew it before he consciously did. How was that possible? "Ibe-San..." 

"The day we left..." He was suddenly back in that hospital in New York, handing his envelope to Sing. He was back in the airport, back on the plane just after take off. Back in the condo he stayed in with Ash. His breathing was getting stricter, his lungs were panicking, his heart was  _hurting._

"See um...Sing said, uh.." 

"Stop beating around the bush." It was the only solid sentence Eiji could make out before he started to break down. 

"Eiji...kid I'm sorry..."  _Us Japanese are so quick to apologize for others._

He brought his knees to his chest despite how much it hurt to fucking move his body. He took a fucking bullet for Ash and it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. Eiji wasn't mad at Ash--God, he could never be mad at anyone for dying. No, he was mad at himself; Ash was alone. The last thing he wanted to be was alone. 

Eiji had taught him how to say goodbye in Japanese. It was just another word in his language, just like how "bye" was just another word in English. He was so fucking hung up on this word though. There was something about goodbyes that never got any easier, no matter how many times they were used; no matter how many times they were taken advantage of. 

さよなら.

"He's gone, Eiji." 


	2. i may never sleep tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapters kinda just a lil!! intermission of sorts !! it'll act as a segway for when they leave nstuff so uhh take this eiji angst
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE NICE COMMENTS AND KIND WORDS ASADFGHJK I LOVE you GUYS

The next day passed by in a blur. He hadn't been this bad since he broke his ankle--since the weeks before he left for America. Maybe if he hadn't left Japan all of this never would have happened--if he hadn't gone to America, he never would have met Ash. Maybe he'd still be alive. Nobody wanted to admit that is was Eiji's fault-he wasn't trying to be pitiful-if he was being truthful. If Sing hadn't gone to deliver his letter, he wouldn't have prompted Ash to run out of the library--maybe then Lao wouldn't have attacked him. 

Maybe then Lao would have backed off. 

If Eiji were to give him the message himself, he would have been the one to take the stabbing. He would have been able to save Ash. 

 _What ifs_ started to swarm him like bees to a hive, and before he knew it, he was drowning. 

 

"Absolutely not. I won't allow it." 

"Please Shunichi. He hasn't left his bed in three days." 

"Whatever is causing it this time is not the same as last ti-" 

"What is it then? What's gotten him to relapse  _worse_ than before he left?!" There was silence for a few moments before finally, a response. 

"...I can't take him back. I'm sorry." 

When Eiji opened his eyes, he found his bedroom door opened just a crack; his mother stood outside, along with Ibe. He had been awake long enough to catch the end of their conversation, but apart of him wished he hadn't.

  
He knew he didn't  _actually_ want to death--that this heavy hopelessness he felt was just immense grief. Guilt. Survivor's Remorse. Ash wasn't  _everything_ about Eiji, but he was everything  _to_ him. As disgustingly cliche and lame as it was, he knew he wouldn't ever find another person like Ash. 

And part of him was okay with that. 

"Hey sweetie," his mother said gently as she walked in. She was a beautiful woman, with deep chocolate eyes that withheld an insane amount of wisdom. "How're you feeling?" 

"I want to go back to New York," he blurted, sitting up quickly. His hair stuck up and out in too many directions, and his legs ached from the lack of movement he had taken in the past three days. 

"Eiji, baby, no." His mother placed a hand in his black hair, sifting her nimble fingers through the strands soothingly. 

"Mom please, I need to go back." 

"Eiji." 

"I need to see him. One last time." 

The expression on her face nearly him down again--the sudden realization of what had happened between Eiji and Ash. The conflict of letting him go. 

Ibe walked in then, massaging his temples. "Look Eiji, kid, not now. Not with how you've been reacting to the whole situatio-" 

"How I've been reacting? He's fucking  _dead!_ And you expect me to just sit here and be okay with not  _ever_ seeing him again?" He didn't mean to curse. Actually, he didn't mean to snap like that in front of his mother--New York had changed him. For better or for worse, was unclear. 

Ibe sighed in defeat, beginning to pace the room. "You haven't been this...depressed since you broke your ankle," he murmured, saying what was on everyone's minds. An unsettling silence fell over them, which Eiji found too uncomfortable. He started dwelling on the past, on the what ifs, on everything he could have changed about what had happened to him and Ash. Silence gave way to intrusive thoughts. 

Eiji stood up, deciding to stretch his legs at least a little bit; and maybe wash up. He returned to his room from a quick shower, shuffling around for fresh clothes and a comb for his damp, tangled hair. 

He was just about finished getting dressed. 

Somebody out on the street must have dropped something made of metal--the clang ricocheted through the neighborhood. Eiji immediately got on the ground, eyes wide in fear. 

All that ran through his mind was Ash's face, etched in fear and pain. His face the moment that bullet struck Eiji in the side. The moment Skipper died. The moment Shorter died. Images flashed in his mind like a slideshow at warp speed; the fast paced flashbacks made his heart race a million miles an hour, and the blood rushed to his head and a noise bubbled in his throat and-

He was crying. 

Rough, painful sobbing. 

"Sweetie..." 

"Don't touch him." 

He could hear Ibe and his mother talking. He could see his bed in front of him. Hear the choked back sounds of a dying animal pouring out of his throat. Feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. But he didn't feel present. Like he was stuck on repeat, replaying every life threatening experience that they had encountered together. 

Eiji's hand flew to his side as the tears started to flow from his eyes like mercury. His eyes were wide, and, despite the danger being very obviously gone, a scream ripped from his throat. Raw, and scraping and hurting. 

"I can't just have him suffer without me beside him," he heard his mother protest, sliding off the bed to hug her son, as if he were made of broken pieces of glass. "Shh, baby, it's okay..." She cooed, kissing his head gently. He was shaking in her arms. He screamed until his throat itched. She may not have fully understood what he was going through, but she understood that whatever it was caused him the utmost grief. 

Ibe took a step back. After what happened in the States, he considered Eiji his son; despite him being his student...the kid had really grown on him. Like a paternal instinct Ibe never had. 

He left the room to make something small for Eiji--the poor kid hadn't had a proper meal in three fucking days. 

When he had calmed down, Eiji stood up. He thanked his mother under his breath and stumbled downstairs to talk to Ibe. 

His heart felt just as heavy as his feet in that moment. 

Like carrying his body was almost as hard as carrying emotions. 

Ibe sounded defeated when he opened his mouth and said, "I can take you back for a week at most." 

For the first time since returning to Japan, he brightened up. "Ibe-San...are you serious?" 

"Just long enough for you to see him, okay? A week should be enough to attend his wake..." 

"Thank you." Eiji stepped forward to hug his professor. It was gentle and awkward, but the sentiment was there. "When do we leave?" 

"Two days." 

"Thank you. So much." 

Eiji watched Ibe prepare the food for both of them; it was calming in a way. He was quiet as he watched, leaning against the counter. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants; his hair was messier than normal--it was starting to curl at the very ends, due to the dampness of it. 

さよなら.


	3. if you're gonna be the death of me, that's how i wanna go

The flight to America was painful--to put it simply, he spent the entire fourteen hour flight with baited breath and a sick stomach. He slept for about an hour, and even in dreams, his mind was occupied with Ash. His green eyes. The hair that fell into his face. The way he watched Eiji like he was limited edition when he spoke, his emerald eyes patient and kind. Eiji's English was horrible when they first met--it only improved because of how patient and understanding Ash had been.

After what felt like an eternity in the air, they landed at JFK airport. Eiji's legs felt like jell-o. His heart was thumping in his chest so fucking hard that whatever strength he had left in his legs was gone. "Ibe-san," he said, grabbing his shoulder for support. Eiji had bags under his eyes. He looked sick. "Let's go see him right now."

"You don't want to take a nap first? Get something to eat? God, kid you look terrible." Eiji shook his head.

"I want to see him before they stuff his body." Ibe winced at the thought before he led Eiji out of the airport in hailed a cab.

* * *

 

They rode to Ash's condo in silence. Eiji stared out the window, at the passing city and the people walking to and fro. He wasn't awestruck like he was the first time he had arrived in America. New York, while still beautiful, now held a sort of nostalgic pain to it; an aching appeal that felt like home.

The first thing he noticed upon stepping foot in the condo was the smell. Ash always reminded him of the scent of home, or the warm breeze he felt in the summer. Ash reminded him of home, even with reluctant blood on his hands.

The apartment was also...immaculately clean, which was kind of alarming. He scouted the place before inviting Ibe inside, who promptly took a seat on the couch and passed out.

Eiji rummaged through his suitcase for the black suit he had brought with him. He stared at it. Ash's death didn't feel real to him. None of it felt real, to be honest. It felt like just yesterday Ash was teaching Eiji how to shoot a gun; Shorter was teaching him curse words in Chinese; Skipper was making fun of him for his poor vault jump. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Eiji warily went to the door, peaked through the peep hole. He wasn't expecting anybody. Staring back at him impatiently through the tiny glass hole was...Sing?

"Wha...how did you know I was back?" he asked when he opened the door.

"Max told me."

Eiji nodded slowly before he ushered Sing inside and closed the door behind him. The smaller man ran a hand through his short hair. Fixed his jacket. He headed to the stools at the little bar counter in the kitchen and settled on one comfortably. "Max also told me that you came back for the funeral."

"Yeah."

"It's tonight. Is that okay?"

"I have no say in the matter. As long as I get to see him, I don't care when it is." Sing just nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the condo Eiji had once shared with Ash. In his own way, Sing missed Ash--dearly. Despite whatever they had been through--either together or apart--Sing found a little place in his heart for Ash. 

He watched the sun set. Eiji sat beside him. 

"Do you think he read my letter?" 

Sing said nothing. After a few agonizingly silent minutes, he stood up; he patted Eiji's shoulder as he walked past him. "I called for a ceasefire between the gangs attending." 

"Thank you." 

"You, Ibe, and Max have front row seats." 

Eiji wasn't sure what to say. Thanking him again and again would never be enough--nor would it ever carry the weight of his emotions. He just nodded his head with a tiny smile, praying his gratitude translated well into it. 

 

By the time Ibe woke up, Eiji was already ready to go. He had put his suit on, and even slicked back his hair. He sat on the chair across from Ibe, flicking through the photos stored on his phone's gallery. There were tears welling in his brown eyes--he didn't let them fall, but they were obvious due to the blue-light of his phone reflecting off of them. 

"Eiji, hey." Ibe sat in front of him. 

Eiji didn't respond. There was so much he wanted to say to Ibe. To Ash. In his mind, there was no reason for him to completely shut down the way he had--in his mind, there was no way someone should have affected him as much as Ash. No one had ever affected him this much, in life or in death. Not even Shorter made him shut down like this. 

"C'mon kid. We should get going." Ibe patted Eiji's knee as he stood up. He headed to a different room to get dressed and fix up his hair. While Ibe tidied himself up, Eiji put his phone away and stood shakily. Ash's death didn't sit properly with him, sure, but actively going to see him--his body--made Eiji's legs shake. His palms were sweating. His heart was beating. 

It was cruelly reminiscent of the day Eiji fell in love with him. 

Finding a taxi to the funeral home wasn't hard. Neither of them spoke unless absolutely needed, though, so the ride was filled with silence and the occasional, "you're okay." Eiji stared out the window at the passing buildings and streets; the drive was maybe twenty solemn minutes, though it seemed to last an eternity. 

By the time they stepped into the funeral home, it was already filled with a multitude of people--many of which were from Ash's gang, or the Chinese mafia. There were quite a few faces Eiji didn't recognize, and some that he just barely remembered. Most of these people had only seen Eiji in passing, and those who barely knew of his existence still understood one thing: this wasn't a man to mess with. Not because of strength, or power, or rank--but because he meant the world to Ash. Like the parting of the red sea, the bodies before him stepped to the side to grant him access to the casket up front. 

Oh God. 

The weight of it all weighed down on him again and he hesitated for what felt like forever. "Ibe," he muttered, holding his arm. "I can't do it." 

Ibe nodded seriously, not a hint of a positive emotion on his face. Eiji swallowed. He begged to fly back for this reason and this reason alone--he wasn't going to let this opportunity to slip through his fingers. It could very well be the last time he ever got to see Ash's face in person. 

He felt like a child walking up there; whoever was paying their respects quietly moved away when Eiji walked up. His heart was trapped in his throat, and didn't seem like leaving anytime soon--his palms were sweating badly now, and he was light headed. His stomach did flips in the wrong direction. He felt woozy, like everything was slipping through his fingers. 

When he forced his gaze to focus on the body before him, he nearly screamed in anger. 

How cruel it was to see Ash laying still, hands crossed over his chest and lips held together in a faint smile; his hair was brushed back and his skin was pasty, despite the makeup on his face. His jade eyes were closed and not moving. He wore the same clothes he had when Eiji left for Japan, but...they were clean. His long fingers didn't twitch like they did when he slept. There was no way Eiji could lie to himself and say he was asleep, even if he tried. There was no escaping what was right in front of him. 

Ash didn't look like Ash. Ash didn't even look like Aslan. The Ash in front of him was just a nameless shadow. And in his hands, resting above his heart, was a small stack of three papers. 

Eiji carefully moved his cold fingers to the side. His body shook with the effort to hold back the sob catching in his throat. There were hot tears rolling down his cheeks. 

_"Frowning doesn't suit you as well as smiling, Eiji."_

He lifted the papers slowly. 

_"Never shall I forgive whomever hurt you."_

There was a smaller slip under the crinkled papers. The one way ticket to Japan he had purchased. Which meant...

_"I won't ask for forever. Just for now."_

Eiji wriggled the papers out of his grip and studied them. There were blood stains on the first two pages. Whatever sobs Eiji had attempted to hold back were let loose now. The parlor was quiet. He felt his knees give out as he started to read the words he had written on the papers just a week and some change before. 

さようなら.


	4. i will run alone tonight; without you by my side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe designated flashback chapter,,,pls enjoy!!

_Eiji thought he knew which way he swung--that is, until he saw how the setting sun shone through the trees and onto the American's blond hair. Sure, beauty wasn't everything to a person, and Eiji knew this--but that didn't stop him from being entranced by him._

_"Here, hold it like this."_

_Eiji was suddenly aware of_ everything _. How small his hands were in comparison to Ash's, the way his breathing hitched when the American wrapped his arms around his body like he were porcelain. And, yeah okay, they were currently running from the American mafia--but besides all of that, Eiji felt safe. Ash wouldn't hurt him intentionally; and even if Eiji had known him for not even a month, he still trusted him with his life._

_He felt a pair of eyes watching them. Eiji was both nervous and giddy to be holding a weapon illegal in his home country. It was exhilarating. His hands shook just slightly--Ash squeezed him._

_"Deep breath." He obeyed. "Pull the trigger."_

_Eiji was hesitant at first, but the strong arms around him were comforting. He pulled the trigger, his body kinda jerking back in fear. Yeah, he completely missed the cans, and the sound scared the shit out of him, but he was proud._

_So was Ash apparently._

_Eiji handed the gun back to him. As he turned, Ash pressed the gentlest kiss to Eiji's cheek. He felt his skin tingle and warm where his lips touched._

_Maybe, just maybe, Eiji was falling for this dangerous American boy._

* * *

 

_"Take this, Black Cat. You'll need it to defend yourself."_

_This couldn't be happening. Just a few days gago, Eiji and Shorter were laughing. They were staying up late, they were talking about their dreams--for fuck's sake, they were_ cuddling.  _He was teaching Eiji how to curse in Chinese. He was telling Eiji the embarrassing stories of him and Ash--all the shit he and Ash had been through._

_To see a man as strong as Ash watch helplessly nearly made Eiji cry._

_Eiji gulped. Shorter was begging Ash to save him. To free him. To put an end to his misery._

_As if there were a switch in his brain, Shorter turned and advanced on Eiji--his instincts kicked in and screamed at him to run. So he did. As fast as he forced his legs to go, his stamina was running out; Shorter caught up to him every time, slashing the knife in his hand like those cheesy American horror movies. Eiji was covered in cuts and bruises, and his voice was starting to give from begging Shorter to come to his senses._

_Ash was pleading to be let out of shackles, pleading to free his best friend._

_"Take me!" he cried, yanking and pulling at the chains. "Just take me instead of him!"_

_His gun was kicked towards him._

_The chains holding his arms were loosened just enough for him to pick up the weapon._

_"Shoot him."_

_Eiji stumbled and this time, he didn't get up in time. Shorter pinned him down, paranoia etched into his once kind features. He fumbled for the knife and just as he was about to plunge it into Eiji's heart, a shot rang out._

_Eiji's eyes widened._

_Shorter's body stiffened. His lips curled into a gentle smile. "Thank you."_

_Ash screamed. Tears poured from his eyes the way ichor flows from a god's wound. His arms were roughly pulled back and his gun clattered to the ground. His head hung low. His tears fell onto the ground in quiet drops._

_Eiji's ears rung. He was already covered in blood--his own_ and  _Shorter's. But when his body fell onto Eiji's chest, he was drenched in the stuff. His eyes were still wide. His hands shook._

_His breath hitched._

_There was a blatant hole in Shorter's chest._

_When Eiji was forced to sit up, he didn't fight it. Any energy he thought he had drained away. He stared at the body on the floor. Stared at Ash. The body. Ash._

_His breath hitched._

_He started to cry._

_"I'm sorry."_

_He couldn't stop._

* * *

 

_Ash tightened his grip on Eiji's waist. He sat outside the building he was locked in, on a crate away from his gang. Eiji had followed him. Something was wrong._

_Ash felt wrong._

_He was dirty._

_He was filthy._

_Eiji sifted his fingers through the American's blond hair slowly, gently wrapping his other arm around him. Ash was shaking; his entire body trembled in what Eiji could only describe as paralyzing fear. Ash's fingers dug into Eiji's sides, but he didn't flinch away from the touch._

_"You're okay," he whispered into his golden hair. "No one can hurt you anymore."_

_Ash squeezed his waist once again; his eyes were wide open, face squished into Eiji's chest as if he were a child awoken from a nightmare. As he started to calm down, his emerald eyes closed and he started to breathe normally._

_"Ash we should go."_

_"Just one more minute."_

_"....Okay." Eiji couldn't argue with that--he couldn't argue with someone who barely showed the trauma he's been through. Of course he wouldn't show it--who would want to remember something like that?_

_"No one can hurt you so long as I'm here with you."_

* * *

 

_Eiji had actually shot a gun._

_Not only did he shoot a real live gun--he shot a_ man.  _In the shoulder. Was he a monster? He didn't kill the guy. He did it to save Ash. He had too. But that didn't mean he was exempt from the feeling of absolute doom._

_Now he sat, in an abandoned subway line with Ash and Sing and the rest of Ash's gang, and the Chinese mafia, and Black Sabbath. He was across from Ash, watching him slowly nibble at a can of meat. He looked sickly--skinnier. Pale. His eyes were kinda sunken now and he was grumpier more often, probably due to his even lower blood pressure._

_Eiji smiled to himself. He knew just barely what Ash had gone through. Just barely. He knew of his acute eating disorder, and how it had come about from staying with Golzine (and the trauma that brought back)--and he was kinda glad it wasn't as bad as he thought. Glad that Ash's mind wasn't taken over by it._

_"We're going back."_

_"Wait, what? Why?"_

_"Eiji, if we don't stop him and tell the world what he's doing, there's no telling what he'll do next."_

_He was right. Eiji thought for a moment--he hummed._

_"Just be careful, Ash."_

_The American smirked. "Can't go dying on you Japanese, now can I?"_

* * *

 

_A room. Dimly lit by the single light bulb hanging right above their heads. Graffiti littered the walls and the little table they sat at. It was cold--breezy. The faint sound of honking cats and evening traffic rung out from below. Everyone was settling down for the night. Ash sat across from him, green eyes hiding the twinkle of excitement. He watched Eiji write--his hands perfect and elegant as he wrote down the words. He turned the paper around to face Ash. He pointed at the first one._

_"Ko-n-ni-chi-wa," he said, slow enough for Ash to repeat each syllable. "Meaning 'hello'."_

_He did, and Eiji laughed at his horribly Americanized accent._

_"Right, good. Now, goodbye. Ready? Sa-yo-u-na-ra."_

_"Sayonara." His brows furrowed, and he said the word over and over to himself, just barely loud enough for Eiji to hear. He was practicing._

_"No, no. Almost, though, that was good. Sa-yo-U-na-" Eiji moved before he could think. He threw himself before Ash as the men came into the room._

_A shot rang out._

_Then another._

さようなら.


	5. give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> places you can find me.   
> instagram: @actualturniptyler  
> tumblr: @actualturniptyler, @faguettenoodles, @vivalashouta  
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Eiji didn't remember much from after he passed out; he woke up back in the condo with Ibe and Max making dinner. They were having a hushed conversation. Eiji didn't mind it this time. He wanted quiet--being lively would have drained him far more than he would like to admit. He sat up, thinking back to the wake and what had happened.

He found his letter and his ticket to Japan in Ash's cold hands. He remembered his knees giving out, but he was somehow able to make sure he didn't fall. He stayed by the casket for hours after that, pulling up a chair to rest on; he set his chin on the smooth wood and intertwined his index finger with Ash's. He spoke to Ash when he held his hand--a one-sided, quiet conversation about everything and nothing. He told him about Japan; about the flight back and how much trouble he had gone through just to be sat there right then. Eiji told him about his mother, and how the sun looked so different back home than it did in New York. Eiji talked about Sing and Ibe; he talked about how much his English was improving--how Ash's Japanese was terrible but he was trying. He told him about how much the weather differed in Japan; about how much he would have loved to bring Ash back home. How safe it would be. Yeah, it sounded kinda weird, to be talking to a body. He loved him though. Far more than he had ever loved anyone in the past.

"Eiji, here." Ibe slowly made his way to the couch diagonal from where the boy slept. He sat up as the two men sat down. He was given a bowl of soup to nibble at--and that's exactly what he did. What he felt wasn't sadness--more like perpetual emptiness. He felt as if part of his heart had ripped away, as cliche as that sounded.

He ate in peace.

Despite being nearly twenty years old, Eiji found himself retreating into his own head--he refused to do basic tasks such as eating, let alone speaking and socializing. It's not that he was  _trying_ to feel that way--he meant none of it. He knew acting like this was going to place a huge burden on both Max and Ibe; it would place an even bigger burden on his entire family, in both New York and Japan.

As much as he wanted to go back to normal--he couldn't. What even was normal anymore if he didn't have Ash? Or even Shorter? Or even Skipper? He began to wonder--would they still be alive if he had never intruded on their own world? If Eiji had just stayed in Japan, or better yet, chosen a photography topic that  _would not have interfered with Ash Lynx's life at all,_ none of this would ever have happened. None of it. He'd be at home with his family, and maybe Ash would still be alive and well.

The mafia here was nothing like the mafia back home.

Eating had given Eiji enough energy to life his head and look at Ibe in the eyes. His black hair tickled the tip of his nose. Despite being awake for quite some time now, he had  _just_ noticed the soft blanket draped over his shoulders. His suit jacket rested over the arm of the couch he was sitting on--his pants were still on, as well as his socks.

His blanket smelled faintly of Ash still. 

"Our flight home is in a few days," Ibe said through the ear piercing silence. "I talked to the airline and they said they wouldn't charge us for any extra luggage we bring on board. So...take whatever you need."

Quietly, Max joined them in the living room. He solemnly sat beside Eiji, though he didn't look at him. Max himself looked on the verge of a breakdown. "He left no will," he started. "But, he did tell me...you know, if he ever died, he wanted you to have some of his things." 

Eiji couldn't look him in the eye. He fiddled with his fingers, which were resting in his lap. He was quiet as he stared down at his nimble fingers. They were warm. 

Ash's hands were always cold.

Finally, he took a little breath and said, "There's not much I want to take." 

"He has no family, Eiji. You're the closest thing he had a to frie--to a lover." 

Maybe that wasn't the best choice of words for Max to lay out, but he wasn't entirely wrong. If there was one thing Eiji needed a reminder of, it was that what he had with Ash wasn't a dream. Their relationship was more of an unspoken one--they understood what the other needed and wanted, and it kind of went unsaid that they were dating. Maybe  _dating_ wasn't the right word.  _Soulmates._ That's what they were. Soulmates. 

"Lover," Eiji repeated quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the smallest watery smile. 

Max watched him closely. Eiji murmured to himself as he pulled the fuzzy blanket closer to his body--he stuffed his nose into it and inhaled. A myriad of memories flooded back to him: the day they met, the day he stayed in Ash's shared apartment--the one he lived in with his gang. The day him and Ash moved into that condo in the city. The pumpkins on Halloween. 

"There's not much I want to take," he repeated, that wistful smile still plastered on his lips. "Maybe just a few clothes." 

"That's...that's all you want?" Max asked, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. His brows were scrunched together in confusion. Eiji just nodded. The longer he had the blanket against his face, the more his eyes started to water. 

There was silence for God knows how long. Nobody spoke, nor did anybody have plans to speak--as if this shared moment of coincidental silence was for Ash and Ash alone. Cuddled into the blanket on his chair, Eiji was just starting to fall asleep when he heard Ibe and Max finally speak. 

"I'm worried the trip back home won't do him any good," Ibe spoke softly. 

"Staying in New York won't do him any good either. Going back to Japan is the only option for him to move on, even if it takes decades to do so." 

Eiji's eyelids drifted closed just as Max finished his sentence. Go back to Japan? No, he wanted to stay in New York, where everything was foreign. He wanted to stay in the city that Ash had loved so fucking much--where the sun set between the skyscrapers every night, and the constant buzzing of traffic at night put you to sleep. He wanted to stay in the condo he had originally bought  _with_ Ash. He wanted to stay where his memory would be more alive than ever before. 

He wanted to stay where Ash had always been--trapped within the city that never slept. 

* * *

Eiji had been home for a few weeks now, and adjusting to life without Ash was more than just difficult--it felt nearly impossible. 

Ibe had been helping Eiji gradually return to normal, teaching him that life goes on after people die. Eiji knew that--he wasn't a toddler, he knew damn well that he was still alive and Ash was dead. He was  _very_ aware of his mortality, and the loneliness that came with it. "You'll find someone new," Ibe would say to him. 

But he didn't want anybody new; nobody compared to Ash. 

They weren't soulmates for nothing. 

Eiji stood on the beach of his small town, his feet sinking into the cooling sand dune. The sun was setting over the Sea of Japan, and the sky was churning with oranges and pinks as it sank lower and lower beyond the horizon. The wind sifted through Eiji's dark hair the way Ash's fingertips would have on lonely nights. It whistled past Eiji's ears and tickled the back of his neck. He held  Ash's jean jacket in his arms, his nose pressed into the fabric and slowly inhaling the familiar scent as he hugged it closer to his chest. 

Attached to the collar of the jacket was his jade earring, secured safely to the denim. 

"You should have come home with me," he said when he lifted his head. He was looking at the sunset again, with the prettiest watery smile on his lips. "You would have been safe here. Could have started a new life in a different country. You said no matter where you went, the blood on your hands would never go away but--I think part of me believes you wanted to try anyway." 

Tears started to make their way down Eiji's cheeks now. He had done so much crying in the past two weeks, he was surprised he still had the energy to do it now. 

"There was so much I wanted to say to you. So many things I couldn't bring myself to say, and I'm so sorry." What good would apologizing do? He closed his eyes and wiped his cheeks. He stayed like that for a little while before lifting his head. The stars had come out. The moon was just rising when Eiji looked up at the quickly fading sunset to finally say goodbye. 

さようなら.

"I never got the chance to tell you I love you." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! and thank you so freaking much for reading this fanfic and bearing with the wait for this last chapter. I really hope you've enjoyed this piece, it was one of my absolute favourites to write. I'll be linking a few hotlines below if they are needed at all (please keep in mind that these are united states hotlines. please be safe wherever you are, and know that you are not alone). Thank you again! i love u all sm asdfg  
> さようなら !
> 
> hotlines.  
> suicide prevention: 1-800-273-8255  
> lgbt hotline (trevor project): 1-866-488-7386  
> sexual assault/abuse hotline: 800-656-4673


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